


At the Twilight's Last Gleaming

by BreTheWriter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fireworks, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2115690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreTheWriter/pseuds/BreTheWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky might tease Steve about it, but he really is looking forward to seeing fireworks with him again, after all these years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Twilight's Last Gleaming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilverTempest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverTempest/gifts).



"Ooh, the Star-Spangled Nights," Bucky says, smirking a little at the brightly-colored symbol on the map in his hands. "Wonder if it includes the Star-Spangled--"

_"Buck,"_ Steve groans.

Bucky's smirk widens. He remembers how much Steve had hated that song, and how much the other Howling Commandos had teased him about it. He knows that Steve will tolerate a little bit of teasing about it now, because it means that Bucky remembers, but he also knows that there's a point where he can take it too far. "Might be fun."

"Maybe" is all Steve says, and they don't talk about it for the rest of the afternoon.

But a little before eight, their circuit of the amusement park (one Stark recommended, calling it "the most beautiful theme park in America"; they thought it was his usual hyperbole until they saw the exact same words on the signs at the entrance) takes them past a roller coaster they both pretend they're only avoiding because the line's too long, which is bullshit. They round a corner and find themselves on a bridge spanning a river, or what passes for a river. The bridge is punctuated with wide awnings in the familiar red, white, and blue, gigantic stars and stripes fashioned out of spangly garland tacked to each lamppost. Bucky smirks again as he sees the first line of "America the Beautiful" painted on the first awning.

"I think we found the Star-Spangled Nights," he says.

"I guess so." Steve sounds resigned.

Bucky takes pity on him. "C'mon, let's go see what else there is."

He's thinking rides. It turns out that the entire section of the park normally known as San Marcos Square has been taken over by the Star-Spangled Nights. Stars and stripes hang everywhere, garlands string across the walkways, and the music is more appropriate to a VFW hall than an Italian villa. Bucky can't help grinning at Steve's obvious embarrassment.

There's a garish red, white, and blue food stand on one side of the path, but Bucky's attention is caught by a small-scale replica of the Statue of Liberty. He's about to tease his friend-- _look, Stevie, it's your girlfriend!_ \--when the music switches to a new song. He stops dead, his expression lighting up.

"Hey, I know this song!" he says. He starts humming along, then singing. _"I left my heart at the Stage Door Canteen..."_

Steve looks up in surprise, then suddenly grins and joins in. It's an old Irving Berlin classic and they're the only two people in the park who seem to know it, but they stand off to one side and sing along. Bucky's voice is lousy, but Steve's isn't half-bad, which is only to be expected since he was in all those USO shows. Both of them are grinning ear to ear by the time the song ends and goes into something else, and they keep moving as though nothing has happened.

The remaining area turns out to contain two rides that go in circles, some arcade games, another roller coaster, and a water ride. Bucky manages to coax Steve onto the water ride, and they come off soaking wet and laughing. Since Steve's in jeans and Bucky's wearing long sleeves to hide his metal arm, they shell out five bucks for the dryer. Bucky, surprisingly, doesn't mind it; it's a small space, but not _too_ small, and it's open all at one end, and besides, it's blowing dry, hot air at them, not the coldness of the cryo-freeze chambers. But Steve stands perfectly still, his eyes tightly shut, and when the air finally shuts off, he's out quickly.

"Steve? Steve, you okay?" Bucky asks, following his friend and touching his shoulder in concern.

"Yeah. Yeah. It's just...I don't know. Heat," Steve says softly, as if that's an explanation. "Reminds me too much of the warehouse, I guess."

Bucky swallows hard. They move silently through the crowds of children and parents and recross another bridge, this one over a road rather than a river, but still star-studded. They weave past the Statue of Liberty and a hot-dog stand, and then Bucky sees the word GELATO and steers Steve towards it.

Five minutes later they're wandering back towards the first bridge, the long one, and Steve's cradling a waffle cone of marscapone-flavored gelato while Bucky carefully holds a cup of tiramisu-flavored gelato, which is cold and sweet and definitely does _not_ remind them of the warehouse. They eat small bites and half-listen to the music. It's all stuff Bucky remembers, songs he heard in canteens and USO shows seventy years ago, which kind of surprises him.

The bridge has a segment marked with white tape and a sign labeling it the FIREWORKS VIEWING AREA. Bucky has heard that a lot of veterans can't handle fireworks, that the explosions remind them of the wars they attended and give them the screaming meemies, but he's pretty sure he's not one of them and neither is Steve. They've both got PTSD, according to Sam, the friend Bucky tries hard (but usually fails) not to be jealous of, but it's got nothing to do with explosions and everything to do with small, cold spaces and medical experiments and losing each other again. Fireworks are a _good_ memory. They end up standing on the end of the bridge, just inside the tape, leaning on the stone railing and eating their gelato.

Neither of them look at each other or say anything for a while. Then, as Bucky moves to throw his cup away, another familiar song comes on. It's "In the Mood," which was always Bucky's favorite song to dance to with the dames. But of course that was seventy years ago, even if it only seems like three or four to him, so nobody knows it anymore. Therefore it's the most natural thing in the world for him to turn to his best friend and say, "Hey, Steve, wanna dance?"

Is it his imagination, or does Steve blush? "I don't know how."

That stops Bucky for a minute, because it's perfectly true. When they were younger and living in Brooklyn, Steve couldn't dance except to the slowest songs there were, because of his asthma. Bucky always wanted to teach him to swing, but he would rather dance alone forever than risk losing his best friend. "I'll teach you. It's easy."

"I've got two left feet."

"I've seen you fight. You're more coordinated than you think. Come on." Bucky grabs Steve's hand and pulls him over, then grabs his other hand and begins the steps of the basic swing.

Steve tries to pull away at first, but Bucky's a match for him in strength, he holds on, and finally Steve gives in and starts imitating Bucky's steps. And then they're laughing, Steve following Bucky's lead as best as he can, making mistakes but doing all right.

When the song ends and a voice starts announcing that there's thirty minutes to go before the fireworks, Bucky lets go of Steve's hands and laughs. "See? I told you you could do it."

"Next time I'll listen." Steve smiles and turns back to the river.

The crowd's getting thicker now, people crowding the railings around them, and it makes sense for Bucky to get a little closer to Steve, to make more room for people, including the little kid next to him who's going to fall off the bridge and into the water if he doesn't quit fidgeting and trying to hoist himself up to see better, even though there's nothing to see yet. The PA system is blaring another modernized version of an old swing tune, but Bucky doesn't want to cede his spot, not even to dance with Steve again. Instead he just leans on the railing, staring across the water. It's a little overcast, the moon is full and shining behind the clouds, and he can just make out the shapes of the trees beyond the water.

"Remember the last Fourth?" he asks suddenly. "Before the war?"

Steve gives a soft chuckle, nodding slightly. "Yeah. You talked me into going on a double date with you at Coney Island. We waited around for--what, an hour? They never showed. You finally said to hell with it and dragged me off. Said we could have a plenty good time without them. Come to think of it, that was the time you dragged me on the Cyclone. We wound up sitting on a bench just off the pier and watching the fireworks." He smiles, tilting his head up to look at the sky. "I didn't even really care that the girls never showed."

Bucky smiles, knowing that the time has finally come to tell the truth. "There were never any dames."

Steve turns to him, eyebrows lifted in surprise. "What?"

"I made all that stuff about the double date up," Bucky confesses. "Never set it up at all. I figured you wouldn't go to Coney Island with me if I just asked you to come hang out--you didn't much like it. But...you know, usually you'd just go on the roof of the building to watch the fireworks, but you remember the year before that? You'd been so sick that week you couldn't get out of bed, and you had to watch 'em from the window. On your birthday," he adds softly. "That wasn't fair. I wanted to make up for that, and I thought...seeing 'em up close might do it."

Steve continues to stare at him for a long moment. Finally, he says softly, "You were right. It did."

"Good," Bucky says, just as quietly. "I'm glad."

They don't look at each other for a while after that, just stare out across the water and sing along to the songs they knew, which turns out to be most of them. Bucky's half-hoping and half-afraid that "Star-Spangled Man With a Plan" will come on, but it doesn't. There's another announcement at 9:15 that the fireworks will begin in fifteen minutes, and another at 9:25 saying that they will begin "in just a few minutes."

And then the music changes, and "Yankee Doodle" starts playing, which is a new one, especially since there aren't any words. As the song hits the chorus, the first fireworks light the sky. There's a concerted "Aaah!" from the watchers on the bridge.

Bucky's eyes are locked on the sky, his mouth open slightly with wonder. This is an elaborate display--probably computerized, everything seems to be these days--and it makes the stuff he watched on Coney Island as a kid look like somebody's backyard display. It's timed perfectly to the music, too, which starts off with "Yankee Doodle" and goes into "Oh Suzanna" and then what sounds like "She'll Be Comin' 'Round the Mountain," which is a little confusing but works, because after all it's Americana. He remembers singing it in first grade.

Recorded voices start reciting famous patriotic lines. Bucky recognizes most of them--Patrick Henry, Nathan Hale, the Declaration of Independence--the only one he doesn't know is something about not asking what your country can do for you, but it contains the phrase "my fellow Americans," so it's probably a president of some kind. There are more fireworks, more music--it sounds like "Camptown Ladies," they must really like Stephen Foster--and then a voice begins speaking again. "We the People, in order to form a more perfect union..."

Steve's voice joins in, barely audible over the booms of the fireworks and the recording. "...Establish justice, ensure domestic tranquility..."

It's the Preamble to the Constitution. They memorized it in Sister Catherine's sixth grade History class, standing with their arms clasped behind them, reciting it dutifully along with the others. Bucky starts reciting it along with Steve and the recording. They're the only two people who seem to know it--or else they're the only two paying attention. Whatever the reasoning, Bucky doesn't care, it brings back memories of a simpler, not necessarily better, time.

When the Preamble ends, a chorus starts singing "God Bless America." Steve sings along, still quietly. Bucky takes his eyes off the fireworks display to watch him. There's a sincerity and a wistful quality in his expression. The pinks and golds and greens of the fireworks reflect against his skin and the lights dance in his eyes. His ballcap is tilted back slightly and his whole posture is relaxed and content. Bucky reaches over, not really thinking, and touches Steve's shoulder. Steve turns to look at him, a questioning look on his face.

It seems the most natural thing in the world to take Steve into his arms and kiss him.

At first Steve doesn't respond, he stiffens, and Bucky's about to let him go, to pull back and apologize, when Steve's hands come up to fist into Bucky's shirt and he responds, kissing him back, warm and tender and sweet, as the music and the fireworks crescendo to a climax around them and seem to resound in Bucky's very heart and soul.

The last explosive echo dies away and the helpful announcement comes on to thank everyone for coming, and Bucky at last breaks the kiss and pulls back slightly, staring into Steve's blue eyes. "I've been wanting to do that for years," he admits softly.

"Yeah," Steve says hoarsely, scanning Bucky's face briefly. "Same here." He pulls Bucky forward and kisses him again, oblivious to the people streaming past them, heading for the exit and the parking lot.

It's the perfect ending to a perfect day.


End file.
